Among the monastic duties is that of giving instruction to the peasantry round about.  They are not to be oppressed, these humble tillers of the soil, for is it not written that “My yoke is easy, and my burden light”?  But one must insist that they come frequently to religious service, and that they do not lucos colere—­worship in groves—­which shows that a heathen mind still lingered among the people, and that they reverenced the old deities.  Benedict, the contemporary of Cassiodorus (we have no authority for supposing that they knew each other), when he first ascended the mount above Casinum, found a temple of Apollo, with the statue of the god receiving daily homage.  Archaeologists have tried to determine at what date the old religion became extinct in Italy.  Their research leads them well into the Middle Ages, but, undoubtedly, even then they pause too soon.

Legend says that Cassiodorus attained the age of nearly a hundred years.  We may be sure that to the end he lived busily, for of idleness he speaks with abhorrence as the root of evil.  Doubtless he was always a copious talker, and to many a pilgrim he must have gossiped delightfully, alternating mundane memories with counsel good for the soul.  Only one of his monastic brethren is known to us as a man of any distinction:  this was Dionysius Exiguus, or the Little, by birth a Scythian, a man of much learning.  He compiled the first history of the Councils, and, a matter more important, originated the computation of the Christian Era; for up to this time men had dated in the old way, by shadowy consulships and confusing Indictions.  There is happy probability that Cassiodorus lived out his life in peace; but the monastery did not long exist; like that of Benedict on Monte Cassino, it seems to have been destroyed by the Lombards, savages and Arians.  No trace of it remains.  But high up on the mountain is a church known as S. Maria de Vetere, a name indicating an ancient foundation, which perhaps was no other than the anchorite house of Castellense.

CHAPTER XVII

THE GROTTA

About a mile beyond Squillace the line passes by a tunnel through the promontory of Mons Moscius.  At this point on the face of the sea-cliff I was told that I should discover a grotta, one of the caverns which some think are indicated by Cassiodorus when he speaks of his fish-preserves.  Arrived near the mouth of the tunnel I found a signal-box, where several railway men were grouped in talk; to them I addressed myself, and all immediately turned to offer me guidance.  We had to clamber down a rocky descent, and skirt the waves for a few yards; when my cluster of companions had sufficiently shown their good-will, all turned back but one, who made a point of giving me safe conduct into the cave itself.  He was a bronzed, bright-eyed, happy-looking fellow of middle age, his humorous intelligence appearing